EMT
by FemaleChauvinist
Summary: A series of one-shots featuring Edward as an EMT.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** While the attempt has been made to be medically accurate, some artistic license has been taken, and statements made by Carlisle and other medical personnel are not to be regarded as authoritative.

Recognizable characters and plotlines are the property of Stephenie Meyer; all original characters and story © 2017 FemaleChauvinist.

 _Do not post without permission. Do not copy/print without including the above disclaimer in its entirety._

 **Mickie Daniels**

In my work as a paramedic, it was vital that I not allow myself to be distracted; a patient's life could depend on my focus. But as I drove to the station that morning, I found it impossible to force my thoughts off my own worries.

My eight-year-old daughter Kendra had been severely handicapped since birth, faced with multiple serious health issues. Six months ago she had had a series of procedures that was supposed to enable her to live a relatively normal life.

But for reasons the doctor had never adequately explained to me, the operation had failed and my daughter's disability remained the same as before. The doctor had reminded me that I knew going in there was a ten-percent chance that nothing would change, which I supposed in a way was true. A ninety-percent success rate certainly implied a ten-percent rate of failure, but it had been used to indicate that it was virtually a sure thing.

And yet in a way, it was the doctor's unconcern that bothered me most; the way he shrugged it off with a vague mention of that ten percent, not caring that I had emptied my emergency bank account on his promise of a miracle cure.

I had briefly considered suing for malpractice, but in all honesty, I knew it probably wasn't his fault — and even if it had been, I couldn't afford the expense involved.

I had been counting on the fact that Kendra would no longer need her expensive medication; would need fewer regular doctor visits; would be able to go to school rather than staying home with a caregiver. But now I still had all those expenses, along with several new medications the doctor had prescribed after the failed procedure, and no money to pay for them.

I was several months behind on my rent now, and my landlord had threatened to evict me if I didn't make at least a minimum payment by tomorrow. I had no family nearby; where could Kendra and I go?

I pulled into my usual parking space, but for several minutes made no effort to get out of the car. Only when a silver Volvo pulled into the spot next to mine did I stir myself. It was Edward Cullen, the young EMT who usually partnered with me on my shifts.

He looked up at me with a nod of greeting as we both exited our cars, then frowned. "Mickie…are you all right?"

I forced a smile. "Yes, of course."

Edward shook his head. "You're concerned about something; what is it?"

"Nothing you can help with."

"Don't be so sure. And sometimes it helps just to talk."

I gave a short laugh. "Not this time; not unless you can pull money out of thin air."

He grinned. "Maybe I can. How much are you talking about?"

"Fifteen hundred," I whispered, still unsure why I was telling him. And of course it was far more than that, but that was the amount I needed by tomorrow.

He flashed me another smile. "Wait there," he told me, ducking into his car. A moment later he emerged and held out a fan of bills…fifteen crisp hundred-dollar bills.

I blinked, wondering if he was involved in drug-dealing…he certainly had access to painkillers and other medications on the ambulance. I had been vaguely aware that he was wealthy, but surely even millionaires didn't usually keep that much in petty cash. And what parents let a seventeen-year-old keep that much cash in his car?

"I-I can't take that," I stammered.

"Pay me back later," he offered, still holding the money out.

"But — what will your parents say?"

"Carlisle would give it to you himself if he were here," he said instantly. "Please, Mickie; it would break Esme's heart to know you and Kendra were thrown out of your house; she'd have you up at our place in a minute. Of course, if you'd prefer that…"

I flushed, at the same time wondering vaguely when I had mentioned that we were being evicted. "Oh, no…I couldn't put her out." Hesitantly I reached to take the money, then paused. "I can't carry that much around all day!"

He fanned the bills together into a stack, then folded them in half and stuck them in his back pocket as nonchalantly as if the one in the corner of each bill hadn't been followed by two zeros. "Ask me for it after our shift ends," he told me.

Right. As if I would feel comfortable walking up to a seventeen-year-old and asking for fifteen hundred dollars that I still wasn't convinced I should let him give me.

I found my gaze drawn often to his pocket over the course of the day, always blushing and looking away as I realized how my fixation would appear. I was hopelessly distracted, but Edward covered for me. He always followed my orders nearly before I gave them; today he followed the orders I should have given but didn't, even correcting me when I would have injected the wrong drug; I went cold all over when I realized how he had saved me that time. I was convinced he would be able to pass his paramedic's exam with flying colors the day he was old enough.

 **oOo**

Despite having told me to ask him for the money, it was Edward who stopped me as we were returning to our cars at the end of our shift. "Forgetting something?" he asked with a crooked smile, pulling the money out of his pocket and holding it in front of me like a treat being offered to tempt a child.

"I-I changed my mind. You can't imagine how grateful I am, Edward, but I just can't accept it."

He shrugged. "Suit yourself. Shame to waste it, though."

"Waste it?" I asked blankly.

"Yes. I've already given you the money, Mickie; it's yours, and I'd be stealing if I kept it. So if you won't take it, I guess I'll just have to leave it here in the parking lot."

I winced at the thought, wondering what he would do if I called his bluff.

"I'm not bluffing, Mickie," he said seriously as if he had read my mind. His eyes burned into mine, and I knew…he wasn't bluffing.

Slowly I reached for the money, touching it with the tips of my fingers as if I thought it would burn me. And with that much cash in my hand, I was suddenly afraid. Did I dare drive across town and walk into the bank carrying _fifteen hundred_ dollars?

Of course, I was in no danger as long as no one _knew_ I was carrying it, but I was so aware of it myself that it felt as if anyone with evil designs would be able to see it even through my purse.

"Want me to give you a lift to the bank to get a cashier's check?" Edward offered; once again the boy had read my mind. He would only have to drive me back here to pick up my car; there was no logical reason I shouldn't drive myself. But I found myself nodding gratefully, and was soon sliding into his car as Edward held the door for me, a courtesy I had thought didn't exist anymore.

Of course, I mused, a seventeen-year-old probably wasn't really that much protection. But it was all appearances; I had the idea a robber was more likely to go after an unescorted woman, even if my "escort" was on the young side.

"We should be just in time before the bank closes," Edward commented as he pulled out of the parking lot.

I caught my lip between my teeth. "We better be; my rent's due tomorrow and I don't think my landlord accepts cash."

"Don't worry; if we're too late I can write a check for you — either directly to him, or to you and you can sign it over to him."

"As long as you promise not to toss the cash in the street," I said dryly.

"That's yours either way," he responded coolly, pulling into the bank parking lot before I could respond. "Looks like they're just locking up."

"Then we're too late," I said, my shoulders slumping.

He flashed me a dazzling smile. "No, we're just in time. Come on."

I shrank behind him as he walked up the narrow sidewalk to the front door, sure that we were about to be taken for bank robbers.

"Hello?" Edward called, knocking lightly on the front door.

Almost immediately a man's face appeared in the glass; the manager, I presumed. "I'm sorry, young man; we're closed."

Edward gave him a disarming smile. "I'm sure you could make an exception for a friend of mine?"

The man gasped. "Mr Cullen! I'm so sorry; in the dark I didn't recognize you at first." He hastily unlocked the door as he spoke, opening it for us and nearly bowing in his eagerness to welcome us inside. I found myself wondering just what kind of bank accounts these Cullens had to get personal favors from the bank manager.

"What can I do for you this evening, Mr Cullen?" he asked, rubbing his hands together.

Edward smiled again, ushering me forward with a hand on my back. "Ms Daniels here needs a cashier's check," he explained.

"Certainly, certainly!" He laughed almost nervously as he stepped behind the tellers' counter. "All my cashiers have gone home, but I'm sure a manager's check will do as well!"

It was only as he laughed again that I realized that was his attempt at a joke, and I smiled weakly.

"Did you want to take the money from checking or savings, Ms Daniels?"

"Neither; I-I have it here." I reached to pull it from my purse with shaking fingers; only Edward's quick reflexes saved it from being scattered over the floor. "Fifteen hundred," I said hoarsely, still unable to believe I held that much cash, and told him to whom to make it out.

"Certainly, certainly. And since Mr Cullen here is such a loyal customer, I'll waive the customary fee. Here you are, Ms Daniels."

"Thank you." I stared at the check for a moment before tucking the precious piece of paper in my purse.

"Will that be all, Mr Cullen?"

"Yes; thank you."

"A pleasure, sir," the manager replied, nearly bowing again as he led us to the door and pushed it open for us. "I hope to do business with you again soon, Mr Cullen."

"Well, that makes me feel a little better about taking this, anyway," I muttered as we walked back to the car.

"What?" Edward questioned.

"As eager as he was to do business with you, you must have so much money you won't even miss a measly fifteen hundred."

Edward chuckled. "It wouldn't be polite to ask, would it?"

"I suppose not," I agreed reluctantly. "But I'm still going to pay you back as soon as I can."

"Only if you take care of your other bills first," he said sternly. "I don't want to hear any more about evictions, or you going short on food to make sure Kendra gets her medicine."

I blinked; how had he known about that? And it had only been luxuries, anyway…I knew better than to starve myself when my ability to work was the only thing providing us with any money at all.

"Say hello to Kendra for me," Edward said, holding the door for me as I got into my car. He was one of the few people who seemed to think Kendra would actually understand what was said to her; I could tell the doctor was only humoring me by pretending to agree.

"I will," I promised. "Thank you again, Edward."

He winked at me. "Don't mention it." Then he shut my door and disappeared into his own car.

 **oOo**

I hand delivered the check before work the next morning, relishing the look on my landlord's face as he took it. But my enjoyment quickly dimmed as he reminded me that this didn't begin to cover the amount I actually owed, and the same was due in another two weeks if I wanted to stay.

I nodded numbly. I had hoped for a month, though I knew I should be grateful he was accepting partial payments at all. But where was I going to find another fifteen hundred dollars in only two weeks?

I had little doubt Edward would give it to me as easily as he had the first time, but I had determined not to allow him to see I was still worried over it. I maintained a forced brightness in his presence, grateful when we had a patient and I could allow worry onto my face without raising questions.

At the end of the first week, with the worry beginning to make me physically ill, I received an unexpected piece of mail. The official-looking letter informed me that a woman named Elizabeth Mason had died, and after some investigation it was determined that I was her only living relative and sole heir of her assets. These included a fairly sizable bank account, a stock portfolio that I was told would provide me with a decent income, though I didn't pretend to know about such things, and a house right here in town. When the lawyer told me the address of the property, I stared at it for a moment, wondering why it seemed so familiar. Then it hit me. That was the very house I had secretly wanted since the day I answered a call there and saw the wide hallways, perfect for Kendra's wheelchair.

For one moment, I wondered if Edward was somehow behind this. How likely was it that I had an unknown relative living in this town at all, let alone in the very house I wanted? And when I responded to that call, surely the name hadn't been Mason…

But it _must_ be coincidence, and maybe my memory was wrong on the name. That call had been before Edward joined the EMS, and while I thought about it every time I was in the neighborhood, I had certainly never mentioned it.

On the day I visited the house for the first time, I realized it was even more perfect than I had imagined. There was a bedroom on the ground floor for Kendra; mine was upstairs, but I could use a baby monitor to ensure I could hear her. Just off the bedroom was a bathroom that was already handicapped-equipped. And all the furniture came with the house as well.

I gave my landlord my notice the same day I handed him a check for the entire balance of my bill; it was the first time I ever saw him speechless.

The first thing I did after paying all my other outstanding bills was write a check to Edward for that fifteen hundred. He accepted it without protest — and also, I noted, without much surprise.

But as my bank statements came month after month, that check was never cashed.

 **Next story coming next week!**

 _I proofread all my stories at least once before posting, but if you see any mistakes I might have missed, please let me know!_

 _Please note that I have internet access only once a week, and may not have time to respond to all reviews/messages. If you have questions regarding my Twilight alternate history, check my profile first to see if they're answered there. Thanks for your understanding! Barbie_


	2. Conflict of Interest

**A/N: For this "move," Emmett is working as a police officer (he and Rosalie are also married, and living in a house separate from the rest of the Cullens). Carlisle allowed it after Emmett pointed out that he has as much control as Carlisle did when he** _ **started**_ **working as a doctor; Carlisle has also warned him that one substantiated reported of excessive force will be the end of his police career. Barbie**

 **Conflict of Interest**

 **Edward**

I was looking at Mickie in confusion and some concern as Jim skillfully drove through the neighborhoods, sirens wailing. She had been watching the limited view we had of the passing streets, and then she had suddenly stopped thinking of what street we were on. Unable to tear her eyes away, she had deliberately kept herself from recognizing the turns, and done it so well that if I hadn't known better I would have sworn she was trying to block me. I wanted to ask if she was all right, but aside from a fixed stare, there really wasn't anything I should have noticed.

Then Jim pulled up in front of the house, and I knew — knew what I should have realized long before Mickie did; from the moment I saw the address in Jim's mind. This was _her_ house. And that could only mean one thing…Kendra.

"Mickie!" I called, as she came unfrozen and dashed out the back of the ambulance without any of our usual preparation and ran up the front steps.

I grabbed the medical case and followed at my fastest human run, grateful I could hear Emmett's thoughts among the first responders. "Em, don't let her through; we have a conflict of interest here." I spoke quickly more for the sake of speed itself than to keep my words from the humans.

Emmett didn't ask any questions. As Mickie attempted to run past him, he snaked an arm around her waist, pulling her against his broad chest. "Let me go!" she cried. "That's my daughter; let me go!"

 _Her daughter…_ I heard the horror in the thoughts of the other policeman, the one who was bending over the girl who lay gasping on the floor beside her wheelchair. In truth, I hadn't stopped Mickie because of the advisements against treating family members. Carlisle had treated both Bella and Nessie while remaining calm and professional; Mickie's thoughts were nowhere near coherent enough to allow her near a patient.

"Em, she's thinking of biting you; she'll break a tooth if you let her," I warned as I dropped to my knees beside Kendra and flipped open the medical case.

Emmett swiftly but gently captured Mickie's chin in his hand. "No, you don't," he told her. "You let Edward take care of your daughter; she'll be fine." _Right, Edward?_

I nodded briefly; I would _make_ it true. I quickly checked the girl's condition and asked a few terse questions of the police officer and Kendra's caregiver. The woman wasn't a trained nurse, and was completely shaken by the whole thing.

I had the syringe in my hand when I suddenly paused, realizing what I was about to do. Officially I was only an EMT, not licensed to break a patient's skin. But technically I had two mds…practically I wasn't about to let this girl die when it was within my power to save her. Chances were no one would even make an issue of it unless it ended badly; if they did and Carlisle couldn't convince them I had acted appropriately, I at least knew he would much prefer a hasty move because I had tried to _save_ a life than because someone had taken one.

My hesitation was so brief that only a vampire could have seen it — and Emmett was so sure I would do all in my power that he didn't notice. He was right, I realized as I injected the drug; there had never truly been any doubt.

Kendra's breathing eased slightly, and I fitted an oxygen mask over her mouth and nose before checking her eyes and pressing my fingers to her pulse.

"Should we get another ambulance?" the police officer questioned.

"It would take at least five or ten minutes to get here; by that time we could be almost at the hospital. I say we take her in."

The man hesitated a moment, then nodded, assured by my confidence. Jim had brought in the stretcher, and he and I quickly lifted her into it.

"Emmett, will you drive Mickie to the hospital?"

"Sure thing, bro."

I winced; technically he was supposed to be my adopted uncle by marriage this time around. Fortunately, the humans were all too preoccupied to notice his slip.

I lightly squeezed Mickie's hand as I passed. "I'll take care of her, Mickie, I promise."

She nodded woodenly. She had stopped fighting Emmett and now leaned against him for support.

"Watch out for her, Em."

 _You got it._

Jim hesitated a second as he was about to get into the driver's seat. "Sure you can handle it alone back there, Eddy?"

I winced slightly; I didn't so much mind Jim calling me Eddy, with the almost fatherly concern in his thoughts, but if Emmett started in with it he was asking for trouble.

"Yes, I'm fine," I assured him. "You just worry about getting us there."

"Whatever you say, kid," Jim agreed, turning on the siren and pulling out as I shut the loading doors.

I was glad to be alone; to be able to move at my true speed; not to have anyone question my level of treatment.

I had Kendra moderately stable by the time Jim pulled into one of the ambulance bays at the hospital. To my relief, it was Carlisle's thoughts I heard waiting for us. As Jim and I wheeled Kendra in, I explained vampire-soft and -fast why I was treating this patient on my own.

In a normal tone, I gave him Kendra's vitals and treatment so far. "Masen factor two point five zero one," I added, dropping my voice once more below human hearing.

When I started work as an EMT, Carlisle had begun asking me about the level of patents' thoughts when we brought them in. We had quickly found it clumsy for me to always describe the cognitive level by comparing it to "a sleeping human" or some such, and not entirely accurate, either. So we had developed the Masen factor, a scale by which I could give Carlisle all the information he needed on a patient's mental state with a set of numbers. The point represented a division between two sets of data rather than a decimal; our system had gradually grown more complex as I gained practice evaluating patients.

 _What is it normally?_ Carlisle questioned, knowing Kendra was mentally challenged.

"Variable; say seven point two five as an average." Which was higher than everyone except Mickie assumed it to be; Kendra hated how even her doctor spoke as if she couldn't understand.

Carlisle nodded tersely and turned to follow as an orderly wheeled Kendra into one of the exam rooms.

I turned as Emmett led Mickie into the waiting room, an arm around her shoulders. "Where's my baby?"

I stepped forward, putting a hand on her arm. "Dr Cullen's treating her now. You need to wait out here, Mickie."

She dropped into one of the chairs, burying her face in her hands.

 _The kid gonna be all right, Edward?_

I nodded briefly. Yes, she would be…but only because I had been the one to treat her. If Jim had realized the call was for Mickie's daughter, he would have asked them to send a different ambulance. The extra time alone might have cost Kendra her life, but I could also say without arrogance that another EMS team might not have been able to save her. I had gone beyond my own EMT licensing, beyond even a paramedic's training, drawing on my two medical degrees and a century of listening to Carlisle's thoughts, and I had done it at vampire speed.

The necessity of my being there made me wonder…was there a reason I hadn't recognized the address in Jim's thoughts? I had bought the house for Mickie myself, and I had a vampire's perfect recall.

Carlisle believed in a God who directed things for good; the chances of my forgetting were so small that I had to believe it was more than mere chance.

 **Next story coming next week!**

 _I proofread all my stories at least once before posting, but if you see any mistakes I might have missed, please let me know!_

 _Please note that I have internet access only once a week, and may not have time to respond to all reviews/messages. If you have questions regarding my Twilight alternate history, check my profile first to see if they're answered there. Thanks for your understanding! Barbie_


	3. House Call

**House Call**

 **Edward**

Thunder cracked overhead, making Mickie start slightly. But she was a trained professional, and I knew it was probably only my vampire eyes that could see the slight jerk of her hand.

"Jim!" Mickie snapped. "We're barely crawling; what's the problem?"

"You try driving in this!" Jim called back. "It's raining so hard, I can barely see a foot in front of me."

Mickie grunted, concern for the patient spilling over as irritation. "Well, do your best; he needs a hospital, and fast. Edward —" She broke off as I handed her the syringe of medication she was about to ask for. We were keeping the man alive with repeated injections, but Mickie was right; he couldn't last much longer.

Briefly I considered offering to take Jim's place at the wheel; even my vision couldn't pierce a near-solid curtain of rain, but I knew this road like the back of my hand and could drive it blindfolded.

Before I could come up with a convincing argument for letting me drive, there was a crack, a rustling, and then a crash that stopped the ambulance with a jarring impact and the sound of shattering glass. Jim cried out, the scent of blood suddenly permeating the air.

My hand flashed out, steadying Mickie as she stumbled from the impact. "What happened?" she gasped.

"A tree fell across the road; one of the branches hit us and shattered the windshield. It looks like Jim's hurt."

"You go check on him," Mickie ordered.

I was already ducking through into the front of the ambulance where Jim was slumped over, blood running down the side of his face.

I put my hand on his arm. "Jim?"

He stirred and blinked up at me. "Edward…ow."

"Easy there. Let's have a look at that cut."

He winced as I sponged blood away from the gash. I couldn't tell whether he had been cut by the tree or a piece of the windshield, but I could detect no glass in the wound. Pressing a piece of gauze over it, I bound it firmly in place.

"Jim's all right," I called back to Mickie.

"Then how about getting us out of here so we can get this man to the hospital?"

I grimaced, squinting through the pouring rain. "I don't think it's that easy, Mickie." Not without a bigger display of vampire powers than was safe… "That tree is huge, and it's right across the road. I might be able to lever up the branch and get us free, but there's no getting through here."

"Then he doesn't have a chance," she said grimly. "Not if we add another hour backtracking and going around… Edward, if we don't get him to a doctor within the next half hour —"

"But…we _can_. My house is a mile back on this side of the tree; Carlisle should be home." I had my phone out even as I spoke, scrolling through and selecting Carlisle's number.

He answered as if he had been waiting for my call, and mostly for Mickie's sake I quickly told him what had happened.

"My study is all set up for you," he assured me.

"Tell Alice thanks," I said wryly, just loud enough for the phone to catch. "Jim got a pretty bad cut on his head," I added, unsure how much detail Alice would have seen.

"Right; I'll make sure everyone's out of the house," Carlisle promised.

"See you in a few minutes," I told him and closed the phone. "Jim? Can you back up if I lever that branch up?"

He blinked at me, then licked his dry lips. "Yeah. Sure, Edward."

I jumped out and was instantly drenched. But I was grateful for the obscuring curtain of the rain as I pushed the branch off the front of the ambulance. Not that either of them would have seen anything anyway; Mickie's attention was on the patient, and Jim's vision was slightly fuzzy; when I told Mickie he was "fine," I meant he wasn't in any immediate danger. The front of the ambulance was badly dented, but picturing the parts of the engine under the damaged sections, I was fairly certain it wouldn't affect its performance.

I gave it a push backward to free it from the last of the tree's grasp, then swung myself back on board. "Move over, Jim; I'll drive."

"No…I'm fine."

I narrowed my eyes. "In the first place, Jim, you have a concussion; you shouldn't be driving. Besides, the turn-off is pretty hidden; even in good weather you can miss it if you don't know where to look."

"You're wasting time, boys!" Mickie snapped. "Jim, just led Edward drive; he's too wet to help me back here anyway."

Jim made way for me without further argument, his movements slow due to his aching head. I knew his injuries were worse than either he or I had admitted to Mickie, but he could last until we got to the house; his Masen factor remained high enough that I knew his concussion wasn't immediately dangerous.

I backed up until I reached a slight widening in the road, then turned the vehicle almost in its own length and sped back toward the house.

Even I might have missed the turnoff if I had had to rely on my vision, but I knew precisely where it was and made the turn without hesitation. I tried to avoid the roughest patches of the lane, wondering vaguely why we had never bothered to pave it. Surely our cars would require fewer repairs if we weren't constantly driving over a gravel lane…though that might leave Rosalie with less to do and more time to be dissatisfied with her lot as a vampire. Maybe after all an unpaved lane was best…

Carlisle was waiting on the front porch as I pulled up, then turned and backed the loading doors as close to the roofed area as I could. I heard only Esme's thoughts from inside the house, though I surmised Bella must be there as well; everyone else had left to avoid the blood. I was sure Carlisle would have attempted to send Esme away as well; she must have insisted on remaining.

Carlisle was inside the ambulance as soon as Mickie had the loading doors open, and I joined them from the front. "Masen factor three point two oh and falling," I murmured as Mickie gave him the man's other vitals.

Carlisle's lips tightened. "How's Jim?" he asked briefly, even as his mind seemed focused completely on his patient. All vampires could think about two things at once to some degree, but Carlisle had perfected the art — perhaps as a means of blocking me, as I only heard one of the sets of thoughts.

"Six point nine seven zero. He has a fairly deep cut and a moderate concussion," I added in a tone Mickie could hear, "but nothing Mickie can't patch up until you're free to look at him."

"Good. Give me a hand with him, Edward; we'll take him straight to my office. Mickie, better see if Jim needs any help getting in."

Mickie didn't question the authority in Carlisle's voice, moving to the front of the ambulance as I grasped the head of the stretcher.

 _Is she paying attention to us?_ Carlisle asked.

I shook my head briefly.

 _Then let's go._

At vampire speed we carried the stretcher across the short gap between the ambulance and the porch; even in the downpour he barely got damp. Mickie and Jim wouldn't be so fortunate, but I was sure Bella would find some dry clothes for them to wear.

We kept the stretcher perfectly level as we carried it up the stairs to Carlisle's study, once more set up as a hospital room — the transformation slightly startling even to me.

"I'll change and joined you in a minute," I murmured.

Carlisle merely nodded, already bent over his patient.

I flashed to my room, where I quickly put on dry clothes and returned to Carlisle's side less than a minute later.

He glanced up. "He needs surgery right away."

I nodded. "You want my assistance?"

"Yes. But I'm worried about Mickie…"

"She's busy with Jim."

"I know. But officially, you could do that just as well, while she's slightly more qualified to assist me."

"Do it without telling her. Bella will keep her downstairs, and we can lock the door to be sure."

 _And afterward, when she questions my competence allowing a "mere EMT" to serve as anesthesiologist and surgical assistant?_

I shook my head. "She won't," I assured him. "She's convinced I can pass my paramedic's exam the day I turn eighteen…she knows I saved Kendra's life a few months ago."

"All right," Carlisle agreed. "We don't have much choice anyway…"

"The worst that can happen is that we have to move," I reminded him, locking the door and stepping to his side. "His Masen factor's still dropping; let's not waste any more time."

Carlisle and I worked together with all our usual smoothness, each fulfilling the duties of two or three people, not to mention several monitoring machines. At the hospital, Carlisle wouldn't have dreamed of performing this surgery without two or three units of blood at the ready. Here, able to move at vampire speed, he sealed off the bleeding so quickly that a transfusion was unnecessary; the saline IV drip was sufficient.

Indeed, the whole surgery was completed in so short a time that Carlisle and I realized in the same moment that our biggest problem was not explaining to Mickie why I had aided Carlisle, but convincing her that we had had time to do it.

Carlisle briefly considered simply telling her that he had found surgery to be unnecessary after all, but quickly dismissed the thought; when the man was eventually admitted to the hospital, it was important that the staff be aware of what procedures he had had.

 _I could just wait up here until a long enough time has passed,_ he mused.

I shook my head. "Jim's cut needs stitches; and I don't think his concussion's that bad, but you should evaluate it. Look, tell Mickie you haven't done the surgery _yet_ ; fix Jim up, then come up here and stay long enough for her to believe you've performed it."

 _You're sure she won't insist on trying to help me?_

"Positive, no, but you can convince her if you turn on the charm."

 _All right. Keep a close eye on him, Edward, and call me if there's a problem._

I gave him a crooked smile. "What, don't trust my skills as a doctor?"

 _You know I do._ Flashing me a grin, he hurried out of his office and down the stairs.

I paid attention to Carlisle's thoughts as well as Mickie and Jim's as he hurried down the stairs, at the same time monitoring our patient for the slightest change.

Jim lay on the couch, an ice pack over the throbbing lump on his head; Mickie had insisted he shouldn't have painkillers until the doctor had seen it. Both of them were in dry clothes now. Mickie's fit fairly well; she was about the same size as Bella. But Jim was a good six inches shorter than Carlisle, who at six foot one and a half was the shortest of us Cullen men. At the same time, he was developing enough of a paunch that Emmett's clothes fit the most comfortably around him. He was wearing a jogging suit I wasn't sure why Emmett even owned, the impossibly long sleeves and pant legs rolled up. I smiled slightly; obviously Alice hadn't foreseen this very far ahead, or she would never have allowed such a fashion heresy.

Mickie looked up sharply as she heard Carlisle come down. "Do you need my help?" she questioned.

Carlisle shook his head. "We've stabilized him for now. The surgery will take some time, so I wanted to take a look at Jim first."

Mickie looked a little doubtful, but she didn't argue as Carlisle pulled over a footstool and sat down beside Jim, taking his wrist to feel his pulse. "So, Jim, couldn't you duck fast enough?" he teased lightly.

Jim grinned and then winced. "Never saw it coming, Doc."

Carlisle chuckled. "Well, let's just see how bad it got you. Can you tell me if you've been experiencing any dizziness or nausea?"

"Little dizzy if I move my head too fast; it's not too bad."

"But no nausea?"

"Not to speak of."

Carlisle frowned. "Is that a yes or a no, Jim?"

Jim sighed. "Just a little queasy," he admitted.

"Any blurred or double vision?"

"Not really."

Carlisle sighed. _Edward?_

"Very minor nausea; no significant visual disturbances," I answered, speaking in conversational tones that I knew he could hear from downstairs.

 _And what exactly does that mean, Edward? You're no more helpful than he is!_

"Because he's being completely honest; the symptoms are very mild and vague. Based on symptoms and Masen factor alone, I would diagnose a moderate concussion; I can't give you more than that."

 _I'm sorry, Edward._

"Apology accepted."

Carlisle checked Jim's eyes with a penlight and gave him a basic neurological exam, agreeing with my diagnosis. Only then did he remove the bandage I had put on. The bleeding had stopped, but the wound was still gaping and ugly, and Carlisle winced as he saw it. "Ouch. That must hurt."

"Yeah."

"I'll numb it in a minute," Carlisle promised, gently prodding around the swollen area to check for any injury to the skull. _Edward, you say the branch did this?_

"It must have; a shard of glass wouldn't have given him a concussion."

 _True._

Carlisle injected the local anesthetic before cleaning the wound and putting in seven sutures. "There we go," he said, dressing it and applying a bandage. "How are you feeling?"

"All right."

"You'll be more comfortable in bed," Carlisle told him. "Can you stand?"

"Yeah."

Carlisle offered him a hand, helping him to his feet and watching to make sure the man was steady. He wavered slightly, and Carlisle instantly had an arm around his waist. "Here; let me help you."

It was in Jim's mind to protest, but another wave of dizziness decided him otherwise, and he let himself lean on Carlisle as my father helped him up the stairs.

He led him to Jasper's room, unused for the time as Alice and Jasper were living separately as a married couple. Esme had already turned down the covers on the bed, and Carlisle helped Jim to sit on the edge of it. "Here," he said, handing him two pills and a glass of water from the nightstand. "These should help with the pain. I can't give you anything stronger because I don't want to risk a sedative with your concussion, but I can get you another ice pack if you need one."

"No…I'm fine."

"Mm. Well, let me know if you change your mind when the numbing wears off. Here, lie back and rest."

"It's…all right if I sleep?"

"Yes. Someone will be waking you up every couple hours, but rest is the best thing for you right now. Call if you need anything." He pulled the blankets over him and turned out the light as he left the room.

Mickie was waiting for him in the hall, hoping in the darkness he wouldn't notice the slight trembling of her hands. "I…suppose you want my help for the surgery, Dr Cullen?"

"Not at all," he said smoothly; "Edward and I can handle it. You look tired; why don't you have a hot bath and go to bed?"

"Well, I…"

"Bella, do you have a nightgown that will fit her?"

"Of course," Bella answered. She smiled at Mickie, and Mickie followed her without a word of protest, leaving Carlisle a little puzzled at her easy acquiescence.

What only Mickie and I knew was that Kendra's failed operation had left her with a fear of surgery. As it didn't affect her job, I felt it wasn't my place to tell even Carlisle. She had been nearly making herself sick at the thought of having to help him, almost ready to suggest herself that I do it instead.

"I hope you haven't been indiscrete, Edward," Carlisle commented as he walked back into the room.

I smiled slightly, shaking my head. "She thinks I'm a genius, and far better than most emts, but I've never heard her question my humanity."

Carlisle merely nodded, guessing there was something I wasn't telling him, but respecting Mickie's right to have me preserve her privacy as much as possible,

"How is he?" he questioned, moving to our patient's side.

"Stable. His Masen factor has been variable, but on the whole there's a slight upward trend."

"Is he in any pain?"

I shook my head. "He's still too far under from the anesthetic, though it's starting to wear off a little."

Carlisle nodded, checking the man's vitals. "Keep an 'ear' on Jim, too; he should be all right, but that concussion is severe enough to bear close watching. I'm not sure he'll let me knew if he needs an ice pack, either."

"He won't," I said dryly, "but I don't doubt Esme will get him one whether he tells her he needs it or not."

Carlisle chuckled. "True enough."

Carlisle gave me the task of waking Jim through the night, as I was better equipped to judge his neurological condition. By morning the concussion had begun to resolve, though the headache and dizziness would likely remain for a day or two and he would need to restrict his activities for at least two weeks.

The storm spent itself in the night, and shortly after dawn we received a call from Emmett that he had removed the tree from the roadway…I doubted he had bothered to use a chainsaw.

So after Mickie and Jim had eaten breakfast, we set about transporting our patient to the hospital. Carlisle wouldn't hear of Jim driving, insisting that he needed to be admitted to the hospital himself for observation.

So I drove, while Carlisle hitched a ride to work with us and assisted Mickie.

 _You know, Edward,_ he mused, _you could never pass as old enough for a doctor, but next time you go through medical school you should at least intern for a while; maybe enter a residency program._

I smiled to myself; it bothered Carlisle more than it did me that my eternal youth precluded me from following in his footsteps even now that I had sufficient control. I enjoyed practicing medicine, as far as I could, but not to the level Carlisle did.

"What makes you so sure I'll be going to medical school again?" I questioned softly, though I suspected he was right, if only because in another hundred years or so I would have cycled through all my other interests and hobbies. A hobby. That's all it was to me, really; to Carlisle it was a calling.

 _I proofread all my stories at least once before posting, but if you see any mistakes I might have missed, please let me know!_

 _Please note that I have internet access only once a week, and may not have time to respond to all reviews/messages. If you have questions regarding my Twilight alternate history, check my profile first to see if they're answered there. Thanks for your understanding! Barbie_


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